


Change isn't Always a Bad Thing

by Mortalacademy



Category: Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Almost Fluff, Heart-to-Heart, M/M, Malcolm Fade Supportive, Mark coming back from Faerie, Out of Character, Short & Sweet, indifferent Mark Blackthorn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 05:46:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6841387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mortalacademy/pseuds/Mortalacademy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After returning from the Wild Hunt and the world of Faerie, Mark is finding it hard to deal with himself. The Clave dropped all accusations about him, and he was found innocent, but the Blackthorn boy has his own personal problems to deal with. Though a stranger in the night seems to help him get past them. (MALCOLM FADE is in this fic also.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change isn't Always a Bad Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Cassandra Clare. 
> 
> Bear with me, I wrote this wayy before Lady Midnight was realised when I was actually shipping these two. So don't hate me!
> 
> (Written in September 2014)

After leaving the Wild Hunt and Faerie, Mark had settled back into his old life with no problem. His brothers and sisters all accepted his slight changes, but they all knew deep down that he was still the same Mark. He'd never forgotten them, or given up hope, he'd known that one day they'd be together again. Los Angeles was home for him, and it'd been over six months since his return, and since the Clave had questioned and cleared him. Considering they assumed he was spying on the Seelie Queen's behalf, but after a trial by the sword, he was proved innocent. So he'd fell back into a Shadowhunter routine as normal.

Although one thing was different, and that was the man he had met almost two months ago. Mark leant against the window-frame, as he looked down into the garden where Ty was reading, while Livvy sat opposite him writing in her notebook. Or as she called it her diary. Emma and Julian had been out all day at the beach with Tavvy and Dru, so Mark had only recently skyped with Helen and Aline, who were due to come home any day now.

The sun burnt into the horizon, reflecting against the ocean's surface, creating a hue of orange, blue and purple across the skies. The colours reminded him of that man he met those months ago, ever since he'd left Faerie he'd only had his family, until him. His mind rewound down, back to the day they first met. Mark smiled fondly at the memory.

 

_It had been particularly cold evening in the Institute that night, he'd put all of the children to bed and the eldest had gone to their own ends of the building. Effectively leaving him to his own thoughts as he stared into the orange flames that licked against the stone walls of the fireplace. The day he had come home, his younger brother and sister-Tavvy and Dru-had cowered away from him, something that cut Mark to his core. They couldn't understand why his Verdigris eye, that they always called a magical colour, had turned two different colours of blue-green and gold. The elder children hadn't taken it any better, but they kept judgement to themselves, Julian still taunted him, but now he had more leverage to do it. Mark sighed and rubbed the heel of his hands across his eyes. He wished they were different, everybody who met him judged him and gave him strange stares. He was the faerie-child that had 'chosen' to be a part of the Wild Hunt. He couldn't be trusted._

_Mark ran his hands through his sandy blonde hair that effectively looked brighter-once again-because of his eyes. Apart from his eyes, he was no different and he knew it, but people thought better to judge him before knowing him. He was glad his family knew him, because deep down he worried if they would have ever given him a second glance if they didn't. The creak of the door from behind where he was seated shook him through his thoughts, as he turned a foreign figure peeped their head around the door. Mark raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat when the figure stepped into the darkness of the entrance, and watched the stranger close the door with a click. Mark made an effective, yet quiet cough. It got the strangers attention, who jumped at the noise, clutching a hand to their chest._

 

_“Oh my! I do apologise, I didn't realise anybody was in here... I'm looking for Arthur, is he around?” the strangers voice was smooth, but had a hint of a childlike tint to it. Mark smiled inwardly at it, it was a change from all of the stern, serious talk that had become the 'norm' since the Dark War._

 

_“I'm sorry but he's not here at the minute, he took a last minute trip to London to visit old friends. I can tell him you visited, or if there is anything I can help you with?” Mark stood up from his seat in the battered old armchair, and reached out a hand to the stranger in the shadows._

 

_“I'm Mark Blackthorn, the second eldest in this family, but as my sister is not here at the moment... I guess I am head of the Institute for the time being.” The stranger stepped forward slowly into the light of the fire, and that was when Mark recognised him. He drew in a deep breath, and smiled kindly at the other man._

 

_“I'm Malcolm Fade, High Warlock of Los Angeles. It's nice to meet you, Mark.” Malcolm shook his hand firmly, and once again very childlike. Mark had to hold the urge to smirk or grin at the action. As they exchanged pleasantries, Mark took this time to take in the essence of Warlock Fade; his hair was as white as snow, and his skin was pale with a faint tan, but it was his eyes that Mark noticed the most. They were a deep purple, like the midnight flower and could only be described as unique. Malcolm was a little taller than Mark, but he didn't dress like any other warlock. He wore a black and white striped jumper, with skinny black jeans and combat boots. No glitter like Warlock Bane._

 

_“It's nice to meet you too, Malcolm. How can I help you, or if I can?” Mark avoided eye-contact as much as possible from the other man. Although he knew the warlock had unique eyes like himself, he didn't want attention drawn to them, because he couldn't bare judgement right now. He offered the man a seat, and took a seat opposite, in the same battered armchair as before._

 

_“Well I was here to discuss something with Arthur that he'd asked to speak about in confidence. So I don't think you can help me. Though I'm sure if it was anything else, you could most definitely of helped the best way you could. You seem like a striving, and helpful young man.” Mark flushed slightly, and smiled across at the warlock, whose eyes were full of innocence and happiness. He turned his eyes back to the fire, watching the flames dance back and forth across the wood, as the silence stretched between them. He didn't know what to say or talk about._

 

_“So do you like cats? I have a few cats, I have a black, a white and a Persian cat. They are a handful when they want to play, but they are independent to look after themselves.” Malcolm was grinning like the Cheshire cat himself, as he spoke to passionately of his pets. Mark smiled down to the floor as flashed his vision-as quick as lightning- in his company’s direction._

 

_“Well-I... I've never been around any kind of animal long enough to build any kind of bond to them. Of course we have Oscar the Institute cat, but he sticks with Emma and Jules. What are your cat’s names?” Mark noticed Malcolm shuffle around on his chair innocently, trying to get comfortable. He lifted one foot up under the other, and looked across at Mark, smiling._

 

_“My black cat is called Luna, my white cat is called Neely and my Persian is called Captain Sushi. They are wonderful companions, you should definitely get one. Maybe a tabby cat!” Mark laughed at the warlock’s excitement-not to mention the name choices-, it was wonderful to hear his own laugh again. It felt like it had been years since he'd really ever laughed at anything meaningful. He saw Malcolm grin at him, a huge smile across his smile. Mark found him strangely attractive, he was carefree and lived for himself, not to please others. Not to mention his was ridiculously beautiful. He could have passed for a fey with all of his angles he thought._

 

_“Mark, can I ask you something? But please tell me if I’m being too rude or forward.” Mark nodded and smiled. All the while, he looked up across the pictures that covered the mantelpiece of the fired alcove below. He hadn't notice the warlock’s sudden movement, until the man appeared sat smiling on the puffett in front of him. They were almost touching at the knee, and Mark subconsciously shuffled on his seat._

 

_“Why don't you look at me? You have avoided all eye-contact ever since I walked through that door, have I done something wrong? Are you uncomfortable around warlocks? I don't want you to feel scared or anything around me.” Mark laughed quietly, and looked up at Malcolm quickly, then back at his hands. He didn't want the man to think he hated him, or his species. Mark took a deep breath, then released it slowly._

 

_“Malcolm, I don't hate you or your species. The reason I don't keep eye-contact is for a complete different reason... A more personal reason.” Mark flicked his eyes up to look at the man before him, through his lashes. The warlock was bowed forward with his chin rested in his hands. He looked like a child waiting for a story to be told. Mark couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It was so sweet, and innocent._

 

_“I assume you already know of my being in the Wild Hunt, and being part fey. Well I also assume you know what happens when you become a part of it. The unchanging, permanent something.” Mark summoned all courage and straightened his back, lifting his chin and looking at Malcolm eye-to-eye. It was very faint, but a strange feeling clicked in his mind and set electric currents across his skin. He shivered and noticed Malcolm did the same, which looked very out of character for him. At least it wasn't just me he thought._

 

_“My eyes... they altered. I know they know it's me, but the eyes. They aren't the Mark they knew. I feel like a stranger to them, a freak. An anomaly.” Malcolm shuffled forward, and did something Mark never expected. The warlock placed his hands on either side of his face, and held his blue-green/gold eyes to purple, all the while smiling, but his eyes held a serious look. The feeling of having another person this close was a strange feeling, but he knew in his heart that he wouldn't push him away._

 

_“You're not an anomaly, Mark. You can't help what happened. What matters is that your back, you’re back with your family and they have their brother back. If anything, you're unique. Look at me, I have bright white hair, purple eyes and if I do say so myself, I am slightly strange.” They both laughed at Malcolm's words, and smiled at one another. “But that just makes us all the more better, because we're one of a kind, and there will never be another like us.” Mark smiled up at the warlock, flashing his sight from eye to eye. He saw a lot in Malcolm that he would like to see in himself. Yes, he was a Shadowhunter, and yes, he was brave. But this brave that he saw in Malcolm was something else entirely. He wanted that carefree courage._

 

_After a long silence of both men just staring at one another, Mark took a deep sigh and broke it.  
“I'm glad you dropped by Malcolm, you've gave me piece of mind. As well as making me understand that just because of what I've been through doesn't define who I am now. I'm still the same person, with a few more quirks.” Malcolm laughed, and stood up. Mark followed him, as they walked through the Institute to the front door. Up on opening the double doors, the moonlight shone down onto the stone path leaving the grounds. Mark turned to look up at Malcolm, who was smiling-a faraway-smile, then cleared his throat, snapping his company’s attention back to him. Malcolm grinned down at him, which he returned._

 

_“Well it was lovely to meet you Mark, I hope we cross paths again soon.” Mark was in a state of shock when the warlock followed his request with a chaste kiss to his cheek. Malcolm's breath was hot against his cold cheek as he pulled back, still smiling in a childlike way. Mark flushed a little, and nodded._

 

_“That'd be great, so I'll see you around. Have a safe journey home, Malcolm.” Malcolm grinned and nodded, as he took off down the stairs of the Institute in a little jog. Mark stood in the doorway of the Institute, watching, until the man reached the gate. The warlock threw a wave and a huge grin in his direction, which he reciprocated, then took off into the darkness. Followed by Mark closing the door of the Institute, and retreating to his room, after a night that had changed everything. He was no longer alone. There was someone else like him out there._

 

When the memory sunk back into its place in Mark's mind, he blinked looking back out over the landscape through the window before him. The moon was rising above the horizon, the stars brightening the night sky. It had been two months since meeting Malcolm, and two months since his life started again. He was the same Mark, just with a twist. He was still a Blackthorn, and loved his family. But now there was someone else who held his heart, even he didn't know it yet.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? :D


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